Fight for our Thrones
by Illeia Evalion
Summary: They wanted their positions back that were stolen from them. Everyone has forgotten who they are and the nations are forced to hide behind the false identities of ordinary humans to escape the clutches of a shady Organisation. Rating may change.
1. The Light

Arthur's feet ached and his head felt heavy as it hung low like something very heavy was pushing down on him. Even reaching the top of the stairs dragged on in long, tedious minutes, until he was finally able to make his way across the landing to his bedroom.

Without even lifting his gaze from the floorboards beneath him, he raised a hand to push open the door and expel the darkness within.

Without even thinking to turn on the light, Arthur continued inside, hardly noticing that the room was stretching out before him, extending the needed time to reach his bed.

Halfway through the mundane journey and his senses sharpened, making him flinch away in surprise at a noise from the within dark that still lingered across the room, refusing to leave. The light from the hall lit a pathway, but had allowed him only that, as the darkness threatened to catch him if he dared slip over the line.

Looking up to the other end of the room, Arthur could make out a figure standing within the shadows.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in my house?" He demanded.

The figure just lifted its own head and stared. Moments passed in silence and Arthur took this for a reply and opened his mouth to speak again.

"Help me..."

Arthur was falling. The world around him had shattered as the mysterious figure had uttered those two words and he was falling into the black depression. He cried out in surprise and his voice carried above him before fading to a whisper.

After falling for a while he slowed as he felt his feet touch the ground of the never-ending world around him. He gasped out as he felt a cold shudder take the breath from him, claiming it for its own.

He began looking around him helplessly for any answers that might reveal themselves at will. In his experience that was very unlikely. Where the heck was he? What was happening? He certainly didn't remember drinking any alcohol before he went to bed, especially since there was a World Meeting tomorrow.

Up ahead, not far from himself he saw a small group of people conversing. He walked over to them, wobbling slightly as he felt uneasy walking in thin air, as if some invisible glass was holding him up and would break at any moment, sending him plummeting him to the dark below.

The figures appeared to have sensed him approaching, and turned to him. England tried squinting at them to try and make out their facial features but could find none. They were empty grey figures, as if someone had forgotten to fill in their details. There was a bright light shining far into the distance and it shone against their backs, illuminating their edges.

But just before England Arthur them they quickly flinched away, their heads tilting to look at something behind him, their whole bodies tensing.

Arthur stopped and went to turn to see what they were looking at when something grabbed his wrist. He looked up to see one of the figures in front of him, tugging him forward.

"Run!" He cried, pulling Arthur along with the rest of the group as they set off to a run towards the light.

Surprised, Arthur stumbled after them and looked back on what they were running from as he felt the grip on his wrist slide away.

A large collection of light was advancing towards them and Arthur could hear its inhuman grumbles and growls.

He continued to run on with the others as they charged towards the light ahead of them, but this made Arthur confused. Why were they running into the same thing they were running from? That didn't make sense!

Time seemed so slow so much that he felt like they were running for hours, the light ahead of them never getting nearer and he could see some of the others ahead of him begin to falter.

Some of them were slowing and others were starting to limp slightly. The one who had grabbed his wrist was even starting to hunch over, clutching his side as he slowed to a hobble.

Just as he was about to catch up to them Arthur felt himself collide with something, sending him back onto the invisible floor.

Hearing the growls close in on him he scrambled to his feet and tried to run, only to collide with something again. He could see the others getting further and further away and daring to look back, the light getting closer and closer. He tried to knock through the invisible barrier but nothing happened. He pressed his weight against it, kicked it and began beating at it with his fists in a desperate attempt to knock it through.

The panic in him rose as he heard the growls of the light behind him close in, getting so close that he could hear collection of whispers, so many over each other that he couldn't make out what they were saying.

He beat wildly at the glass, and called out to the others who were getting further away.

"Come back! Help me!" Arthur cried but no one looked back. "I can't go on..."

He looked back at the light that blinded him, wrapped around him, enveloped him.

* * *

Hello everyone. This is my first attempt at a Hetalia story so hopefully it'll be okay. I just want to say don't be put off by this chapter if you didn't like it, as this was only a little sequence and the actual plot will be kicking in next chapter, along with more characters. I already have it set out so I should be updating soon. Thanks for reading and please review :)


	2. Meeting Adjourned

Arthur opened his eyes, letting sunlight fill them. He didn't get much of a chance to gather up his thoughts when he froze in shock, looking ahead to find himself in a deserted pathway, completely upright and walking.

Okay, that's a little strange.

He looked around him carefully, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He spotted a bench nearby dedicated to a man called T. Cassidy. Hang on...he'd been passed that bench before! Looking around again for any other familiar signs, he began to realise where he was.

He had indeed been there before, albeit it was at one in the morning and he was staggering back in his typical drunken state but even then it was scarce of drug dealers, murderers and general mischief makers.

This was a secluded little path on the outskirts on the bustling city, near his hotel. If Arthur's memory served him, the large building where they'd decided to hold the current American meetings should be on a street near the end of this path.

Speaking of world meetings...

Arthur looked down at himself and saw that he was dressed up in his usual suit for these occasions, complete with brief case in his now sweaty palm. His memory was going. It must be...

He thought back to that morning but was met with a blank wall. He couldn't remember anything. There was nothing to justify the voice in his head that was telling him he was awoken at six in the morning by a call from France, stubbed his toe, gotten himself washed and dressed before heading downstairs for a full breakfast.

But in the end, he decided not to question it. Come now, it's hardly likely anyone wakes up walking, is it? Anyway, it was just another day of work; no Wonderland adventures for him. Not this time.

The path around him was surrounded by trees and overgrown hedges that concealed the blooms that were trying to emerge from within. It all made him feel as lonely as it seemed, overgrown with grass, completely forgotten and uncared for. But still, it was better like that than for it to be avoided for a reason he might discover on his journey.

Sighing, he 'continued' his way down the path, noting the sun shining down on him, the damn thing intent on bothering him since he'd arrived in America.

He often told himself he wanted it to rain whenever he was in America, that he missed the cool of the raindrops against his skin that would extinguish the stress and give him a good excuse for his tardiness. But of course, being a true Englishman meant he wouldn't have happy then either.

Walking down and crossing a few streets after the path opened up to the city, he finally reached the venue and couldn't help but look up at the tall, proud building and sigh. It was something he did every time he came here, as if it had become good luck for him to do so, and nothing disastrous could befall him afterward.

No one was at the reception desk when he entered so he just made his way through, eyes flickering to the large clock above as he did. It was already four minutes to ten. He cursed. Normally he was the first one there but if he didn't get a move on he would be late.

He picked up the pace as he walked through the twist of corridors. For saying it was a quite new building, it somehow managed to achieve a cosy touch of something old and well loved, a trait that England always found made him feel quite homesick at times.

Though of course, he had better tastes in art than whoever decided to hang the rather dull paintings that sat within ornate frames in the halls, hanging over the rich wooden panels that ran throughout.

Not even bothering to wait for the lift, England began to run up the stairs, taking two steps at a time up to the third level, hoping no one secretly saw him trip up near the top.

At an ungraceful pace somewhere in-between a jog and a walk, England could hear a flurry of angered and loud voices echo as he approached the usual meeting room.

There it was. That time again. He knew this feeling well, the frustration of another meeting accomplishing nothing but arguments and grope attempts. The latter had caused even the most serious of nations to conclude that being scarred from power and torn by war could be seem like nothing, for a whole country and its people will tremble when the bad touch trio makes you its next victim.

He rolled his eyes and forced himself not to turn back. In hindsight he probably should have rushed back down the stairs and out of the building as fast as he could, back to the quiet, organised comfort of his hotel.

He pushed open the large double doors with a little hesitation to reveal a room of chaos and disarray lay out in such a way that even he didn't expect.

Random building staff were running this way and that; Alfred was standing on the tables, kicking papers and glasses of water into the air as they ran around with their hands in the air hoping to catch them. Kiku and Yao were hanging off Ivan's arms, trying to hold him back from the end table where there governors were seated as he muttered darkly to himself.

"Dummkopf! This is utter madness!"

Arthur quickly turned to see Ludwig ahead the room, shouting right into the face of his boss and banging a fist on a once organized pile of papers, Feliciano standing close, looking close to tears.

Matthew was watching from the sidelines, apparently finding it hard to keep his eyes off his brother.

Arthur closed his mouth quickly, having realised that he had it hanging open in shock at the utter chaos ahead of him. Papers were flying everywhere as America proceeded to kick them off the table in his rage. At the very back of the room, Arthur noticed a group of people being ushered out of the back door, and he only managed to catch a glimpse of black hair from them before someone came rushing over to him.

"Angleterre!" Francis cried. "Où sur la terre avez-vous été?"

"Speak so I can understand you, frog!" Arthur snapped back, pushing away from the Frenchman who had immediately grabbed his coat in panic. "What the hell's going on?"

"Our bosses have been trying to force us out! They claim they don't know who we are!"

"But that's ridiculous!" Arthur scoffed as he and France quickly moved back to avoid being crushed by a table that Alfred had triumphantly thrown. "Surely it's a joke!"

"We thought so too until security started to haul us out..." Francis trailed off, indicating with his hand at two burly guys lying unconscious on the floor. Moving carefully into the room, Francis and Arthur made their way over to Alfred, ducking and dodging pieces of broken chair thrown by Ivan who had somehow managed to free himself.

"Alfred!" Arthur shouted over the noise at the nation who had just punched another security guard to the floor. "Stop this nonsense! You're not solving anything!"

"Iggy!" Alfred cried, noticing him. "Something crazy's going on! We've been replaced!"

Arthur blinked. "Replaced?" Before anything else could be explained a loud voice thundered over all the others. Arthur saw the commotion around him calm enough for everyone to turn and face the President of the United States.

"That's better." He said, massaging his temples before looking at the nations in turn with a look one would give naughty school children. "I don't know what you men think you were doing bursting in here like this-"

"Bursting in? In case you've forgotten, we have a meeting here today!" Alfred spoke up.

"No, I'm afraid you don't." The President answered dismissively. "I'm not sure how you found out about this meeting of the nations-"

"Ve are ze nations!" Ludwig snapped.

"-but this is top government business and we have no choice but to assume treason."

"WHAT?" A chorus erupted from around the room.

"And if that's not the case..." the President continued, many pairs of eyes following him carefully as he resumed his position beside the other authority figures, "then you have still committed assault against my security and will be dealt with accordingly."

"Nice going America." Arthur muttered, turning to glare at the other nation, who, among others was actually glaring at Ivan.

"But, I don't understand." Yao spoke up. "How can you do this to us, aru?"

"And replace us with those hideous imposters!" Francis piped up.

"We haven't replaced you! We don't even know who the hell you are!" The British Prime Minister replied, looking quite red in the face. Arthur knew him well enough to deny the thought that he was lying. He showed no mercy or even recognition, instead looking at each of them like dirty insects. Looking at the others, England knew that they all felt as betrayed as he did.

Feliciano sniffed, breaking the ominous silence between them. "This isn't funny." He whined.

"No, it definitely isn't," the President said. "I have no idea where the hell you think Germanland, Italy or China is, nor do I care," he looked over towards the door, "took your bleedin' time. Now get these lunatics out of my sight."

The next thing Arthur knew was that he was roughly grabbed by a pair of arms and being dragged out of the room. Deciding he had stayed silent for long enough he put his British tongue to good use and begun to kick and struggle as he saw the other nations in a similar predicament.

Five men had surrounded Ivan, who was giving off a very creepy aura and weilding a sharp ended piece of wood. They practically pounced on the nation and struggled to hold him to the floor as he was given a sedative, Ludwig and Kiku had their heads low in defeat as they were cuffed and escorted out, Feliciano was flailing about as he was thrown over someone's shoulder with as much care as an old rug and Yao was actually being held upside down by his feet as he struggled while behind him. Alfred was also being given a sedative.

Arthur felt handcuffs claim his wrists as he stumbled down the stairs and was pushed out of the building.

It's funny how small and crowded cars can seem when you're bundled into the back of one with three other angry nations. Of all the things he was expecting to find in the meeting that day, this was the very last and he knew he'd give all the tea leaves in the world just to be able to put up with another day like that.


	3. Of Freedom and Park Swings

The car gradually came to a slow stop, the flickering images from the window slowing with them as Francis could feel a bitter tinge rising from the pit of stomach up to the back of his throat like he'd been forced to sit through a boring five hour movie.

Feliciano was beside him, looking down at his cuffed hands in a silence that could only confirm the no hope of their situation. He had ceased his blubbering, to which the Frenchman could guess being seated next to the "scary" Brit was reason enough to the Italian.

Said Englishman was gazing out of the window to his left, an unreadable look on his face. Matthew was also looking out of the window on Francis's other side and the Frenchman followed his gaze to the police officer getting out of their car to open their door.

With nothing more than a simple "c'mon", the cop began ushering Matthew and Francis out of the car as the driver did the same to Arthur and Feliciano on the other side.

Apparently taking too much time, Francis was pulled clumsily out of the car by the impatient cop and guided around the car towards the police station. Walking up the steps, he paused to look at the other nations getting out of the two cars pulled up behind theirs.

"Look, I'm not permitted to be handin' out pillows and blankets wherever you decide to park yourself so hurry it up and get inside," the policeman drawled from behind him. Francis turned to the cop who was tapping his foot impatiently and smirked.

"I'm flattered, monsieur. But, you must let me buy you dinner first," he said, walking past the bemused cop and through the station doors.

The station was actually smaller than he had expected and Francis made his way over where to Arthur, Matthew and Feliciano were stood at a desk.

Kiku and Ludwig began to make their way over, both staring back at Francis in a way that told him that they must keep calm and only speak when spoken to, to avoid more trouble.

Ivan shuffled in behind them, followed closely by Alfred, both of them now fully awake and being held lightly at the arm by more cops and neither putting up a struggle. Behind them was Yao.

They all looked back towards the desk as the officer sitting behind it gave a loud sigh at the sight of them.

"That's a whole lotta paperwork that's just wondered through," he grumbled. "Well, there's too many of you for it to be a robbery and you don't look like the type for vandalism or fly-tipping, but you never know nowadays." His eyes flickered over in Ivan's direction before muttering, "Or is it straight up drug running?"

"These are the guys who gate crashed the meeting the nation leaders called about," answered the officer beside Francis.

"Ah, I see. Arrested for what exactly?" The cop at the desk asked, picking up his pen and looking down at the sheets of paper scattered in front of him.

"Suspected treason and these two guys were getting pretty violent," the other cop said, pointing to Alfred and Ivan.

"Right. Name?" The seated cop asked Arthur, turning his head up after scribbling down something.

"Arthur Kirkland, and this is bloody ridiculous." Arthur snapped, moving to fold his arms before realising his hands were still cuffed together.

"You from Australia?" The cop asked him, noting the foreign accent. Arthur blinked, unsure what to think of such a question. Of all the things he was expecting to hear about his accent that wasn't even on the list. He looked around to the others who were sharing the same confused expression, except Francis, who wasn't even trying to hold in his snicker.

"Australia... No, I'm English!" Arthur said, sounding exasperated.

"From the United Kingdom, sir," spoke up the cop beside Francis. The seated officer looked at him coldly.

"Yes, I know where England is, thank you, May," he snapped at him, gripping his pen tightly before scribbling more down on the papers. "You here on holiday?"

"Business, actually," Arthur said after slight hesitation, opting for a slightly more peaceful response without kicking up trouble they can't get out of regardless.

"Okay, now put your finger on here," the cop answered quickly, dismissing any interest as if he was afraid Arthur would strike up a conversation with him. He pointed to the ink and Arthur pressed his index finger into it before printing it onto paper. After that he was encouraged down the hall by the officer beside him and gave a quick look back to the others as Italy made his way forward.

"Name?" The cop asked gruffly.

"Feliciano Vargas." There was a slight pause from the cop as he wondered if the man in front of him was mocking him. This didn't seem to go unnoticed by Feliciano. "I'm from Italy," he offered.

The cop just grunted and took his fingerprints before Francis made his way forward.

"Francis Bonnefoy," he spoke with a little flick of his hair without even waiting for the question. "France."

"I don't believe this..." the cop sighed, gritting his teeth as he looked back towards the other men crowded behind Francis. "Are all of you on this little jolly vacation of yours?"

"I'm American." Alfred spoke up from near the back.

"And the rest of you?"

There was a brief moment of murmurs from the rest of the nations as they reluctantly uttered their country name. As far some kind of treason against the American government goes, this case definitely wasn't looking up for them.

Another cop cleared his throat loudly, indicating that they should move this on, so the officer at the desk took the names and fingerprints of the rest of them and ushered them down the hallway.

The hallways were awfully narrow and the dull grey bore down on Francis as he looked on in distaste. He shuffled along with the crowd, beside Ludwig who was looking straight ahead firmly. Sensing his gaze, he looked over towards Francis without moving his head before looking ahead again. Francis let out a sigh and saw the group slowing to a stop as one officer ushered Feliciano inside a cell.

"It' so dark and small in here, I want to be with Germany instead!" They all heard him continue to whine as the cop closed the door and Ludwig shifted uncomfortably beside Francis. He of all people knew what Italy could be like when held against his will, especially in confined spaces. "I haven't done anything wrong, don't forget about me, I could cook us all some pasta!" His helpless whining rang out behind them as they were forced to continue down the hallway before they stopped at another door.

The cop that opened the door and beckoned Francis who moved forward and looked into the room before turning up his nose.

"You Americans sure know how to make me feel at home here." He sneered, stepping into the room, hearing a short huff behind him and the slam of a door and he was left alone.

Of course he had only been joking; they were all in custody after all. But the nature of their predicament was so stupid it was infuriating. The handcuffs having been taken off after they had given their finger prints, Francis began to rub his wrists gently as he walked further into the depressing room. Six sides of grey stared back at him from wherever he looked and Francis thought that maybe that alone was enough to make him go mad. But hopefully they wouldn't be in there for too long. They were innocent after all.

On the far wall was a bench that would make up his bed for now and he gingerly sat down, his backside insulted by the cold hard metal beneath him. The only other things in there were the toilet and the sink just a little bit away and Francis could smell its past contents lingering under his sensitive nose.

Scratches decorated the walls around him and Francis would soon find himself trying to read them all for lack of better things to occupy him. For saying the whole room had a cold, depressive atmosphere to it, it was very warm inside, Francis found.

At first he had refused to lie down on the offensive lump of metal beneath him and sat up defiantly, but slowly as the minutes dragged by, his shoulders started to droop and his back slouched as it began to ache.

He sat back and rested his back against the cold wall behind him and rested his head against it, looking up at the ceiling. This wasn't exactly the first time France had been imprisoned and knew he could wait it out patiently for days if he had to, for he'd had practice, but the ignorance of why he was their made it uncomfortable.

As such, after a while, he started to feel anger towards the ceiling that mocked him as he started to see words form in the messy texture. Eight specifically.

"The crime of punishment is a cruel mistress."

A while later, the light creak of his cell door opening and the busy chatter from outside flittered in and Francis lifted his head, realising he had dozed off.

Two police officers stood in the doorway, looking blankly at him as the one on the right crossed his arms.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, after a look in today's events that occurred at the government conference, the governors there do not wish to pursue the suspicion of treason and have not identified you as one of the participants of the violent acts that took place. Therefore, we are prepared to release you on police bail."

Francis could have kissed him for joy, not that that would have brought him much fortune.

"And the others?" He asked instead.

"See for yourself." The cop moved aside slightly, indicating Francis's release. Francis took it quickly and left the room, just in time to see Yao also exiting his cell, looking irritated.

"What a waste of time, aru," he said to the Frenchman. "If they'd just listened to us in the first place they could have saved themselves a lot of hassle." The cops proceeded to lead them down the hallway back to the entrance where more people were waiting for someone to escort them. Amongst them, Francis saw Ludwig's head bobbing above the others.

"Ludwig!" He called to him, lightly pushing others out of the way to make his way over to the German, Yao in tow. Ludwig looked over to the voice and began to approach them after finishing his conversation with another cop.

Reaching Francis and Yao, he pulled them over to the side of the room, away from the noise and mass of people.

"Have you seen the others, yet?" He asked them both.

"I'm afraid not." Yao answered.

"What's wrong, Ludwig? You seem stressed," Francis spoke up, placing a hand on the German's arm who instinctively slapped it away, "but why? We're all getting released."

"Nein," Ludwig sighed, running a hand through his hair, pushing back strands that had fallen over his eyes, "that's exactly the problem. I was talking to the officer over there and he informed me that they're going to hold Ivan and Alfred back while they decide what to do with them." Yao groaned.

"Why can't those two ever control their tempers?" He grumbled.

"You're one to talk, Yao. I saw you struggling as you were being led away. Upside down no less." Francis smirked.

"That was self defence!" The Chinese man insisted. "They had no right to man handle me like that, aru."

"But isn't resisting arrest a crime in itself?" Francis realised, turning to Ludwig.

"Ja, but they don't seem to be charging us for that so don't say anything about it." Ludwig muttered quietly to them, earning a stiff nod from the Frenchman.

"So, what about the others?" Francis asked.

"I'm guessing they should be coming anytime now, aru." Yao answered, looking around the room for any sign of the other nations amongst the crowd.

The people crowded in the room were being indentified just as they had a couple of hours ago and were also being led away, so that after a few more minutes, the room quietened down and left Ludwig, Yao and Francis to stand to the side awkwardly and try and avoid the unnerving gazes of the others still around them.

Francis shifted uncomfortably as he saw a few police officers looking at them before turning to each other and muttering. He didn't fail to notice Ludwig standing tall and still in front of him, looking anywhere but at the cops, as if terrified that he would be arrested for something else.

But to Francis, that wasn't what he was feeling uncomfortable about, for across the room sat a few people in the padded seats near the desk. The man on the very left was large in structure, with dark skin and a balding head, a curved scar running above the right of his upper lip. His expression was blank but his eyes were anything but, and Francis shuddered when he caught himself looking.

Some more people burst through suddenly, but not any of the nations. Two cops were roughly dragging in a drunken man who was dancing about aggressively as he was led into the room and Ludwig, Francis and Yao had to squash themselves against the wall to avoid being hit as he swung his arms around.

Francis looked back at the clock above the desk in disbelief. This man was drunk and it was only...ten past two in the afternoon? 'Let's just hope he and Angleterre don't meet.' He smirked to himself.

As the drunk was being pulled towards the cells Italy was making his way out of one and began to walk down the corridor.

"Ciao, they caught you too?" He smiled happily at the drunk as he approached him. Francis watched as the drunk got closer and there was a sudden "ow" and the cops held the drunk tighter as they passed a now hobbling Italian. Turns out the drunk wasn't in the mood for little Feliciano's optimism and gave him a swift kick to the shin for lack of anything better to hurt him with. The cops quickly apologised and Feliciano made his way over to the others, whimpering and rubbing his sore leg.

"Are you okay, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked him.

"Ouch~" Was all the little Italian muttered. He lifted up his trouser leg to inspect the damage. It was a little red and it looked like a bruise would soon form on its sore surface.

"Were you okay in there, Feliciano?" Yao asked him as Italy let his trouser drop back down his leg.

"No, it was dark and scary, like when we were captured by Britain but without the awful food," Feliciano said, grimacing at the thought. Ludwig put a hand on his shoulder.

"Were the others leaving?" He asked.

"I don't know," Feliciano shrugged.

"What on Earth's taking them so long?" Francis muttered, looking down the corridor. As luck would have it, just as he said it, three figures in the form of Japan, England and Canada came down the corridor together displaying varying states.

Kiku was his usual calm self, looking totally out of place as he walked past more arrested men with stoic grace. Canada was shuffling quickly, his eager look mixed with his typical worried aura as he was visibly trying to stay at least two steps of an irritated Brit.

Small strands of England's messy hair was starting to stick up at odd angles as the darker circles underneath his eyes he had recently acquired in the modern age where more prominent in his miserable expression.

"Don't worry, Stan," Francis chuckled as they all met together, "you'll be out in five years."

"Shut it," Arthur grumbled. "Australia my arse..."

"Apparently, that cop's comment earlier is still giving him some grief," Matthew informed the others. "Where's Alfred?"

"Turns out him and Ivan being held back for a while," Ludwig answered, earning a groan from the Canadian.

"No way..." He mumbled, rubbing his forehead as if in pain.

"Since all the rest of us are here, why don't we go somewhere where we can wait?" Kiku suggested calmly.

"Oui, but are we allowed to just leave?" Francis asked.

"I've already sorted things out," Ludwig said. "He said we are free to go but may be called back for questioning if they see fit. Plus, they'll give us a call informing us of their decision on Alfred and Ivan."

"But where should we go, aru?" Yao spoke up. "We could be waiting for hours."

"I don't know." Ludwig admitted. They all shifted uncomfortably, waiting for someone to answer through the awkward silence that followed.

"It seems only Afred-san knows this place well," Kiku concluded eventually.

"Yes, but he's not here, is he?" Arthur answered impatiently.

"Well, moping around here isn't going to do us much good. Let's get going and see what we find," Francis said, moving through the small crowd of gathered nations and towards the front door, holding it open for the others to pass through.

They all stiffened as they passed, worried that the slightly perverted nation might take advantage as they exited. It seems Francis's regular victim drew the short straw on that front.

"Ow!" Arthur exclaimed as the Frenchman gave his ass a quick slap. Francis just winked and let go of the door, walking through it before it closed behind them.

"You like it really," he said simply, smirking down at the Englishman.

"Damn pervert. Not everyone has the sexual frustration of a raging bull like you." Arthur replied unfaltering, clearly used to Francis's sexual assumptions and showed so by folding his arms.

"But even a raging bull like moi has more sexual history than you." Francis retorted, causing Arthur to wheel around and face him, face flushed with anger.

"Say that again, I dare you, you bloody-"

"Oi, you two!" Both English and Frenchman turned to look down the steps at a mix of bored, amused and annoyed faces from their fellow nations. "Will you stop acting like a couple of pubescent teenagers and get a move on or we'll leave you behind and you can find your own way around." Ludwig snapped at them. With that, he began to walk off down the parking lot, the others in tow.

"Frog," Arthur muttered, giving Francis a quick shove before walking down the steps of the police station.

"Black sheep," Francis replied, catching up to Arthur and pushing him back.

"Those two act like a couple of children, aru," Yao said, looking over his shoulder at the name calling match England and France were having.

"It's in their nature," Canada shrugged. "Those two have an unsaid, mutual agreement to use each other as cat scratching posts for their frustrations when things get bad."

"Does it even work?" Feliciano asked, highly amused by their arguing, although he was starting to understand less and less of it with each insult.

"Apparently not, since they're always fighting," Kiku answered. "But it is interesting to see how other countries deal with their troubles."

"With a keen mind for work to actually help their countries through their struggles sounds like a better idea to me," Ludwig muttered from ahead.

"Where are we going, Ludwig?" Feliciano asked, bouncing up to the tense man.

"Anywhere with peace and quiet." Ludwig answered. "If it means tearing up my own shirt to gag those two with, then so be it."

"But I like that shirt!" Feliciano burst out, suddenly looking quite horrified. Ludwig, who had slowed his pace, looked down at the nation with an odd expression. "And they don't mean any harm, it's actually pretty funny!" Feliciano continued, his face changing to happy very quickly.

"I don't care; I'm not in the mood after today's events," Ludwig answered gruffly. "We need somewhere where we can think and discuss what we do now we've been dismissed by our own government, something that would be so much easier if England's mind was as sharp as his tongue."

* * *

About half an hour later, they all found themselves assembled in a small playground, sat in the middle of a large empty park, the sounds of a busy street in the distance behind them.

It was only one straight walk down from the police station, but as the nations had no idea where they were going, they ended up crossing many roads, walking around large buildings and in circles before giving up and settling down in the nearest seats they could find, which happened to be a couple of swings, a slide and a park bench.

"The meeting should be finishing soon," Ludwig muttered to himself, looking down at his watch that told him it was quarter to three in the afternoon. It was the last meeting out of two to be held in America and Ludwig had agreed that they could all leave early today if they got everything finished at good pace.

"If they even continued with it, aru," Yao said from beside him on the park bench. "The room was in a bit of a mess when we left and they were escorting the imposters out."

Ludwig cast his mind back to that morning and begun to remember all those new, peculiar faces staring up at him from where they should have been sat instead. They were much more businesslike and professional than the nations he'd grown to know, he had to admit, but there was something so cold about them. Something so negative feeding off of them as if they were rejecting his mere presence.

He had seen him. His own replacement was staring back at him with red eyes like his brothers, dark brown hair that was almost black slicked back like he had his own, with a few front strands hanging lazily over one eye.

The image alone was enough to make him shudder involuntary; causing the Chinese man to look over at him with a look of held back pity he rarely handed out.

"You shouldn't think about it too much, aru," the Chinese man said simply. "It will do you no good. What has happened today has happened for a reason and we should use this time that's been given to us to figure out how we can sort it out. Together."

Ludwig thought for a moment on those words. Together...

He wanted to believe they could all sort it out together because they willed it so, but at this moment in time, there was something in him that was making him feel more alone than ever.

He looked over at the playground ahead where the other nations were. Italy was encouraging Japan to push him faster on the roundabout, with improving success.

Kiku had felt a little silly at first when Feliciano had dragged him over to the roundabout and insisted that he push it, but complied half heartedly for the littler nation's sake. But the minutes dragged by and the sun shone down on them and Kiku could feel the warmth settle on his skin beneath his clothes and Feliciano's shouts to go faster were becoming more frequent. As he laughed and enjoyed the motion, Kiku started to enjoy himself too. He was glad to see Italy happy and the task of pushing the roundabout was distracting his worrying mind from the events this morning. Eventually, he laughed along and began to run along with the roundabout before jumping on it so he went around with it.

Behind them over on the swings, Francis and Matthew were having a competition on who could go the highest, and it seemed like the Canadian was winning. Beside them was a slide and Arthur was sat atop of it like a sorry little King.

When they had all got to the park, Feliciano had drug Kiku over to the roundabout but the rest of them just wanted to rest their feet. Ludwig and Yao had grabbed the bench and Francis and Matthew had taken the swings, leaving Arthur with the next best thing: the slide.

Being the proper gentleman and not wanting to dirty his behind on the ground, he climbed up the steps to the top and set himself down of the seat and into a silent ponder.

Ludwig felt a knowing smirk creep up on him. If there was anyone sitting alone then it was almost always Arthur. The lonely island, separated from the rest of Europe by a defence of water. Though he wasn't keen to admit it, he had always admired England's strength he had built up from such a small place. He suspected that it was because of this, that this morning's events had shattered something within him and left him in deep ponder whenever he wasn't arguing with France to no doubt cope with it.

Oh look, said nation is advancing. Ludwig sighed as he saw Francis hop off the swings and creep around behind the slide. He knew how this would end.

* * *

Francis held his breath as he tip toed like an over-the-top-mastermind-at-work up behind the slide. Arthur was apparently deep in thought so no doubt he wouldn't even notice Francis coming he came parading by on an elephant that sang his national anthem. But Matthew was watching and felt like putting on a show.

Arthur had shifted his position so he had both legs hung lazily over the side at the top of the slide and an arm propped up on the other side handle, so that he was sitting sideways but with his back still to Francis.

Said mastermind began to climb the steps and when he was close enough to the Brit he brought back one hand before pushing it out against Arthur suddenly.

"BOO!"

He smiled triumphantly as Arthur yelped in surprise as he found himself tumbling down the slide suddenly. Due to his awkward positioning it was a rather ungraceful ride on his side as his legs kicked into the air, and he stuck out a hand against the slide to try and slow himself, but that made him turn 90 degrees anticlockwise so that he could see Francis's smug face grinning down at him as he slide down the rest of the way backwards.

When he reached the bottom, on his back with his legs in the air, he could hear a few laughs around him and he look around to see the amused faces of the other nations staring at him as he felt himself blush with embarrassment. That was very undignified. He glared at the Frenchman as Francis made his way over, his smirk never faltering and held out a hand to him.

"Enjoy the ride?" He asked smugly. Arthur ignored the hand and pushed himself backwards to lower his legs down the slide and got up, brushing himself off.

"Very funny, Frog, ha-ha," he answered dryly. "You're more of a child than I thought."

"And you're still the sour old man as ever," Francis sniggered, moving his still extended hand to ruffle Arthur's hair, whom quickly slapped the hand away and attempted to flatten the messy strands.

"Oh yeah?" He asked challengingly, though his expression was deadly serious for a moment. He quickly broke it with a smirk as he charged over to the swing Francis was on and stood on it, swinging it with his legs.

Francis quickly followed him as he saw Arthur move to steal his swing. "Hey!" He complained.

"You snooze you lose," Arthur answered with a shrug as he continued to swing, hoping to catch Francis as he did, who was standing in front of him.

"My, now who's being childish?" Francis raised an eyebrow. "This coming from the gentleman who lost his empire."

Matthew, who was seated on the swing beside Arthur, watched Arthur nervously. That was a pretty harsh comment from Francis about something so trivial and he feared that a very serious argument might break out and disturb the would-be peace. But Arthur didn't reply, instead keeping an expressionless gaze to the floor as he continued to swing.

Francis kept his gaze on the suddenly quiet nation. He knew the comment was unnecessary and that topic above most was pretty taboo to everyone else other than him. Francis just liked to push the envelope sometimes. But after this morning's events, this was giving Arthur a chance to declare a serious fight.

Arthur continued to swing for a few more moments before he looked up again slowly, his expression now breaking to a weak smile.

"I broke my arm trying to jump off one of these once." He mused, looking up at the chains attached to the metal bar above him. "Scotland was showing off and insisted I jump off while it was at its highest point like he could." Both Matthew and Francis remained silent, both utterly confused at this sudden statement. "He had only pushed me up half way when I tried jumping. He wasn't impressed, apparently having your arm twisting the wrong way doesn't make your fall very interesting." Arthur closed his eyes and chuckled for a moment. "He said I wouldn't be able to do it right in a hundred years. It's been that much next summer, I think that's long enough." He finished, looking back up the swing fondly before hopping off and sitting down on it. "Your brother even managed it without so much of a bruise." He nodded towards Matthew who smiled at him, glad that Arthur wasn't visibly upset over Francis's comment.

"Yeah, and he showed me how to do it too," he answered happily, beginning to pick up his swinging to match Arthur's. Francis, who had said nothing, sighed and walked around the swing so he was behind Arthur. His comment had indeed rekindled some of his memories, not all of them bad, it seems. How he came to this memory in particular from a comment about his empire, Francis didn't know, but figured it was probably something to do with once being very small and having only his older brothers to look up to. And that was something he had wanted to share with America when he was in his care.

But to Arthur, he looked back on this memory and chuckled because he was fond of it. It's not particularly funny to have your arm broken, especially when your older brother couldn't care less, and it hurt a lot. But it was one of those things you can't help but look back on and laugh a little, and Arthur hoped that one day he could look back on his darkest hours from his past and do the same, because now, it's the memories of being a nation that were probably the only things he had left.

Francis waited until Arthur swung back towards him before he pushed the swing, lifting him up higher. Swinging back again, he muttered a simple, "sorry". He didn't really like to say such a thing to Arthur of all people and wasn't going to make a habit of it.

Arthur didn't answer, but looked back at him with a small smile and carried on swinging.

* * *

"Mr. Jones, Mr. Braginski, we're releasing you on bail. However, you will be required to return to the station on this date where we will inform you of whether you will be charged or not, in which time, we'll be making further investigations," an officer spoke solemnly, pushing two cards with dates written on them across the desk towards the pair.

Alfred and Ivan were standing in front of the reception desk, both looking equally bored after sitting in custody for over an hour more than their friends, who were sitting behind them on the padded seats. Poor Kiku was unfortunate enough to be seated against a tall, skinny man with a long beard who was stroking something underneath his coat like you would with a cat, muttering things under his breath in different voices. He tried not to keep looking over at the man and be too obvious when he was shifting further away from him awkwardly.

When Ivan and Alfred were done, they both followed their friends out of the station, but not before Alfred suddenly turned back to the cop over the desk.

"You might want to give my cell a few minutes while the smell disperses. A special gift to you from America."

* * *

"It was lucky you held me back, da? Otherwise I might have done something much worse and be held there longer," Ivan said in a creepy manner, wrapping a cold arm around Yao's shoulders who shuddered and looked at the others for help.

After retrieving their friends from the station, the nations decided to stop at a local restaurant to get something to eat, though they weren't feeling very hungry. All except for America.

It was quite dark in the restaurant, letting artificial light take over from the lights as the blinds were shut over the windows. It was quite busy in there and this seemed to take a bit of a toll on the staff who seemed very blunt to them when they arrived. They were led over to a booth at the far end of the resturant and they all crammed in.

They all decided to share a pizza, leaving about one piece each to satisfy their nonexistent hunger. America of course, had a pizza to himself and whilst eating, would announce loudly that they should invent a hamburger topping.

"I still can't believe it." Kiku said, shaking his head.

"Me neither," Feliciano agreed.

"They just looked right through us, aru," said Yao, letting out a sigh of relief as Russia removed his arm from around his shoulder to admire the points on his fork.

"Surely it was a joke," Alfred spoke up, swallowing his last mouthful. "We'll go into the meeting tomorrow and they'll tell us that they wanted to scare about our behaviour. To give us a lesson."

"But today was our last meeting, remember?" Arthur reminded him. "We don't have another one for a month. My flight back to England is tomorrow." His eyes widened suddenly. "Holy God, he has my tickets!"

"Mine too, aru!" Yao said, looking just as distressed.

"What's the problem?" Feliciano looked at them, confused. "Just call them and ask for them."

"Nein, Feliciano," Ludwig started, looking over at the Italian impatiently, shaking his head. "If our leaders our being serious and have no idea who we are, they're not going to be handing over plane tickets to us now, are they?"

"Oh," Feliciano looked down at his lap, sadly.

"Those imposters," Francis spoke up, his chin resting on a propped up hand, "did anyone else feel strange around them?"

"Yeah, I did," Matthew answered him. "There was something very off about them, apart from the obvious replacement." The other nations nodded in agreement.

"Actually, I didn't see them. I got to the meeting just as they were leaving," Arthur spoke up, feeling a little left out.

"Why _were_ you late, Arthur?" Ivan asked, with a creepy look of interest as he proceeded to play with his fork, pressing the ends into his finger.

"It _is_ very unlike you, Arthur-san," Kiku agreed.

"It's not really important," Arthur said awkwardly, but the nations stared at him suspiciously. "Well I..." He trailed off as a waitress came over to the table and without asking if they were done, began gathering up the plates.

"Bill?" She huffed.

"Ja, please," Ludwig answered and she began to walk away again after rolling her eyes.

"I had a weird nightmare. And when I woke up I-I... No, you'll think it's weird," Arthur said, shaking his head. Yao raised an eyebrow at him.

"Even weirder than what we already know?" He asked sceptically. Arthur sighed.

"True. Okay, when I woke up, I was already on my way to the meeting. I sort of woke up...walking," he said. Silence followed for a moment or two and Arthur started feeling self conscious.

"You didn't dream of being pursued by a bright light, did you?" Alfred spoke up suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that Arthur was grateful for.

"Yes! How did you...?"

"I had the same this morning," Alfred answered. "I got to the meeting super early and I fell asleep at my desk waiting for everyone to arrive. I dreamt I was surrounded by darkness and then a huge, bright light started closing in from all directions. I don't know why...but I knew it wasn't good. When it finally reached me I woke up as people started to arrive. You had the same, right?" Arthur shook his head.

"No, I was running. The light was chasing me and I was running until I crashed into an invisible wall and was caught. There weren't people in your dream too, were there?" He asked.

"No, I was alone," Alfred answered. The others around the table had remained silent, listening to the different renditions of a similar dream they'd all had. It was silent again for a moment.

"I was falling," Ivan piped up suddenly, looking as cheerful as usual. "The light was both above and below me. But I had that dream a few days ago."

"I had one, the day before yesterday. I woke up, unable to remember why I'd fallen asleep at my table," Ludwig contributed.

"Okay, so we all agree we've had a dream similar to this, right?" Alfred looked around at everyone and was answered with a chorus of hesitant yes's. "Dude, this is so awesome! Like something out of a movie!"

"A disaster movie, no doubt," Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

"I agree for once, this can't be coincidence," Kiku said. "I think it's time we put all these ideas of it being a joke behind us. We've all seen weird stuff in our time, so surely it can't be too hard for us to accept. It's a lot stranger and more sinister but if we get to the bottom of it, we can sort it all out and things will be back to normal."

"I wouldn't put it those power hungry imposters to have created a memory eraser to make our government forget us so they can take over," Ludwig said, his hand curling into a tight fist, ignoring Alfred's child-like squeal of, "awesome!"

"Sounds simple enough," Matthew shrugged before feeling something fall against his shoulder. He looked beside him to see Feliciano dozing on his shoulder.

"How can he sleep at a time like this, aru?" Yao exclaimed as he noticed the sleeping Italian.

"He's had a tough day," Matthew answered, trying not to move so much and wake him up. "We all have."

"Hey, why don't we all go back to my place for a bit?" Alfred suggested. "We can all rest there."

"Sounds good to me," Francis said, waggling his eyebrows at the American in a suggestive manner. Before any of them could raise palm to face, the waitress from before stomped back over, cleared her throat loudly and practically slammed the bill down in the middle of the table. The nations stared motionless at it for a moment.

"Well?" She asked, impatiently. The nations looked up from their glare at the bill to look at each other accusingly. After a few more awkward, silent staring matches between each other they somehow came to a mutual conclusion and turned their gaze to Ludwig.

He challenged the looks he was receiving for a moment before giving up and sighing.

"Idiots..." He muttered, handing over the correct amount to the waitress, not bothering to leave a tip. That would teach her to be friendlier to customers.

She gave him a look and left swiftly and they all got up to leave, leaving Matthew with the task to try and wake the sleeping Feliciano.

"Alfred, this is your country, you are the host and you should have paid." Ludwig said to the American as he climbed out of the booth.

"Didn't bring my wallet today."

* * *

"Excuse me?"

The cop at the desk lifted his drooping head at the visitor. In front of him stood a tall man in a large trench coat, a hat tilted forward over his eyes. "Yeah?" The cop asked.

"I believe you took nine individuals into custody today at around ten o clock this morning..."

* * *

"Please, please, _please_ somebody shut him up! I can't take it anymore!" Ludwig moaned, rubbing circles over his temples. They were all walking back to America's house as evening was falling. Anybody awaken from a two minute nap would usually wake up cranky and irritated, but not Feliciano. Said nation was hopping down the road cheerfully and singing loudly, putting arms around the others to try and get them to join in.

"I will, da?" Ivan said, producing his pipe that he somehow managed to hide from the police.

"No, no, no! No need!" Alfred laughed weakly as he pushed past the Russian and towards the skipping Italian. He stopped in front of him and put a hand on Feliciano's shoulder while his other fished around in his pocket.

Eventually he pulled out a lollipop without a wrapper. It was quite small on the stick, indicating that some of it had already been consumed and was now sporting what looked like a winter coat of hair and God knows what. "Here you go, man! I'll let you have this if you calm down a little," Alfred said, holding out the sticky treat like he was trying to tempt a small child. Feliciano nodded eagerly and took the lollipop from Alfred.

"Alfred, no. You can't seriously-" Arthur cut himself off as Italy popped the thing in his mouth, sugar, hair, bacteria and all. "Oh God, that's disgusting!" He said, turning away from the sight as he proceeded to gag.

"How long has that thing been in your pocket?" Matthew asked him, also pulling a face at the sight.

"Er... I dunno. I haven't worn these trousers in a while." Alfred answered sheepishly. Ludwig would have turned around to scold Alfred for his irresponsibility but it seemed to have worked in keeping Feliciano quiet as he ate it happily.

* * *

When they all reached America's house, Alfred produced his key and opened the door. It was very warm inside, like someone had left the heating on. "Home sweet home." Alfred said happily as he let the others enter. "Right, you guys have been here before, so don't be strangers. Just head on over to the living area and I'll be right with you."

Without bothering to take their shoes off, except for Japan, they all shuffled into the house. It was a very large house, boasting an old, antique quality in the halls, which contrasted with the more modern style of furniture in the prominent rooms.

Heading towards the living room on the right of the large entrance hall, they all stopped as they heard something sound from further down the hall, near the kitchen.

Alfred pushed ahead of the group, heading towards the noise but stopped suddenly as he someone appeared in front of him.

"What are you all doing in my house?"

* * *

A.N: Wow, that was longer than I expected but I'm very pleased with it as this length of chapter was my aim and hopefully I might keep it up. I just want to let you all know now that there will be no pairings in this story, so people won't be disappointed if I was to include one in there they don't like. I'm sorry if you noticed a big error in the way things were run at the police station. I'm not sure what would happen in real life having never been arrested before and not living in America. I did do a lot of research before hand but I was mostly met with brick walls. I also want to say a big thank you to CactusNoir. The review means a lot and I'm glad you like it so far.


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